Ring of Despair
by NeonZangetsu
Summary: Weakness gives him strength. That strength comes in the form of a few kind words spoken to him before the battlefield, before the life changing events that forever shape his destiny. He will fight. He will die. He will be reborn. IchigoxHarem.


**A/N: Consider this a treat for those of u who have not been treated to a good AU Bleach story for new job is very demanding, so I will continue to provide you all with the updates I have been promising. But now, having only the weekends off, my updates might not be quite as frequent as they've been in the past. Anywho, expect an update for Curiousity, My Queen, True King, and of course, TREASON very very soon!**

**A/N: (Continued) This is basically a what-if disaster fic that finds Kurosaki Ichigo arriving late to the battlefield, after all his allies have been either badly beaten, defeated, or vanquished outright. Why would he be late, you ask, hmm...maybe because he was stuck in LAS NOCHES!**

_End of Bond I_

Sosuke Aizen was quite pleased with himself.

He could feel it, that rippling in the atmosphere. That subtle reverberation, rising deep within the soles of his feet. The distorting of space, as heaven and earth became one as they joined and splintered, as the atmosphere rent itself asunder and opened the path for the long awaited challenger. He permitted himself a small smile even, wiping away a stray drop of blood from his cheek; the stray droplet of moisture doing little to demean that charming smile that had sent so many to their doom. Knowingly, he touched both hands to the hilt of Kyouka Suigetsu, knowing that, at long last, the curtain could be raised for the final act.

Now, it was time for the finale.

"Come, Kurosaki Ichigo." he whispered softly as the harsh sunlight dimmed, as the afternoon sky was wrenched apart; cleaved in two, to make way for the massive prescence that loomed just beyond the horizon. This, was the moment he had been waiting for. Beside him, Ichimaru Gin, that man with the ever-indefatigable smile, frowned. Whatever lurked beyond that blackened abyss was not something with which they could entangle themselves lightly.

Why, you ask?

Because _he_ was absolutely furious.

The intensity of his stare forced them back. All of them. They retreated from him as if half asleep. No matter. He ignored the lot of them He had eyes only for his enemy. The man who'd brought all this misfortune and travesty upon the world, and laid it squarely on his shoulders. _Him._ The one who'd forced him to to this; to become something that was dressed in death and damnation.

"I see now what I have to become to stop men like you." He whisked a hand across his face, the deathmask molding across his visage, moving like milk as an eerie an horned facade recaptured the features of his face. His reaitsu thickened, forming an opaque curtain that momentarily stained the sky a thick, ghoulish reddish black. Deep and rasping a low, burbling hiss escaped the confines of the black and white porcelain. And then it was done, the skull of death and destruction leering outward at any who dared to greet his gaze with anything less than the utter reverence that it so deserved.

This man was not what Kurosaki Ichigo had once been.

Arms upraised, clad in a black shihakusho that devoured the sun's early light, Kurosaki Ichigo seemed more a god than a mortal. He peered down from the height, surveying all the carnage with a disgust that did not feel feigned. Without a word, he marched forth from the garaganta; the great black abyss snapping shut behind him as he forook the relative safety that it offered.

His gaze slipped over those assembled before him: taking in the crushing defeat that the shinigami and vizard forces had suffered. He counted a spattering of white and black amidst the rubble, and his heart_-what remained of it-_lurched within his breast. He frowned, his piercing gaze narrowing from within the confines of the mask. These had been his allies. His comrades. His friends. His family, even.

_Aizen!_

Enraged beyond all measure, his gaze settled upon the sky, distant, vacant, as a haori-clad figure dettached itself from the black abyss above and landedneatly behind him. A hand graced upon his shoulder for the briefest of moments; the silent and gentle touch all but leaching the anger from his expression. He exhaled heavily, those ragged locks of strawberry-blonde obscurring his eyes in the darkest of shadows.

"You musn't blame yourself, Kurosaki-san."

Strands of black hair brushed across his face, blown away with the wind. He inhaled; it was a sharp, jagged breath. Then he straightened, the chain of his zanpakuto clanking forcefully as he turned, his face slowly appearing over his shoulder as he curiously regarded the one who had done so much for him; both in restoring his reaitsu, bolstering is faltering confidence, and imbuing him with the strength to carry on. A look of irritation crossed his eye for two beats as they regarded Aizen and his espada, looming overhead and behind them.

He snorted.

"We're late." He mused aloud, taking in the scores of wounded scattered all around him. "Unohanna-san." There was something strange in his voice, something almost tender in the way that he spoke to her; familar, even. Somewhere, sprawled out against the concrete, Shunsui Kyoraku tittered softly to himself. He might have even smiled, were it not for the mouthful of blood in his lungs.

This was the closest thing he'd ever come to seeing Retsu lose her temper.

Pitifully, he scraped his head off the grass and the gravel, his chin scrabbling across the soil as he peered at the unlikely pair. Descending to the earth, they took no notice of Aizen, nor Ichimaru, nor the three remaining espada that, despite being fraccion-less, had yet to make a move toward either of them. Rather, everyone's attention appeared to be fixated solely upon Kurosaki Ichigo, and with good reason.

His bare feet settled upon the broken gravel, the broken cobblestones crumbling beneath his prescence. He treaded lightly, stepping over the bodies of his fallen comrades, his eyes an eerie, molten gold. Arrancar, espada, shinigami, vizard, and the like. He spared them only a passing glance. The path he took did not concern him, nor did the flight of his blade as he brought it sweeping to bear upon its first target.

The black tip of Tensa Zangetsu spat and frothed with hellish flames.

"I'll be leaving them in your capable care, Retsu." Ichigo's brusque statement nearly made Kyoraku laugh, save for the expression of the fourth squad captain. That stern flinty gaze held within her eyes, warned against such an act. But really, _Retsu?_ Now that, piqued Kyorsaku's interest. Perhaps it had something to do with the light flush she bore on eye contact with the Ryoka's lighthearted smile, or perhaps it was just blood loss on his part.

Because for a moment, _just a moment_ as her hand slipped from his shoulder, in the instant before the sudden shunpo separated the two of them from one another, Unohanna Retsu smiled. Then she was gone, off to treat that wounded firecracker of a vizard-girl, most likely, Shunsui surmised. Ichigo had yet to move however, his attention remained fixated upon the sky, burning with a strange, otherwordly intensity.

Shunsui chuckled, dabbing a hand to his own wounds, his fingers coming away bloody and red. He turned them over, holding his hand up to the sky, up to the false ceiling that was Fake Karakura Town, outlined against the great blazing fortress that was

When all this was over, he seriously needed to share a drink with that kid. Assuming they survived.

"Just long do you plan to keep us waiting..._shinigami?"_

The pair of green dumpsters next to him suddenly exploded as a _cero _descended upon them, missing the Shinigami by a hair's width before incinerating the metal containers. Ichigo rolled to the side as the Arrancar's blast extinguished upon the concrete, the sleeves of his black _kimono_ sizzling from the heat. With a quick twist of his body, he spun himself off the concrete and quickly launched into the air at his Arrancar attacker, leaving Shunsui to languish on the cobblestones below.

It was time to find out if the kid was more bark than he was bite.

Metal met metal and sparks splashed across the sky and into the alley he had only just vacated. Blinking away the red haze from his eyes, Kurosaki Ichigo found himself eye to eye_-or in this case brown to turquoise-_with a well endowed woman, whose body looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. Under more pleasant circumstances, he might have even found her attractive.

_"Tres_ espada," she intdroduced herself, her muffled voice rising from just behind the high collar that obscurred it. "Tia Halibel."

"Substitute Shinigami." Ichigo hissed from behind his mask, bringing his zanpakuto up to grind against the blade of the effeminate Espada who'd dared to now crossed blades with him. "Kurosaki Ichigo. _Your worst fucking nightmare."_

_Damn but he was fast._

The first strike of Ichigo's blade knocked Halibel back, unbalancing her. She crashed into the street and barely evaded a second blow as she brought her zanpakuto to bear and raked it in a vicious arc through the air where the vizard's head had been an instant before. On the backswing, she felt the blade nick Kurosaki's shoulder just before a stiff-armed smash to Halibel's face splintered across her mask and knocked her over backward.

To her credit, she recovered well. Just not well enough.

_"Projectil de Azul!"_

He turned on a foot, letting the blade pass between body and arm. Before Halibel could recover from her lunge, he had flowed forward. He jammed his elbow into the epsada's face and plucked the zanpakuto from her with ease. He returned to his spot, spinning the katana with the ease and abandon of a boy idly twirling a stick. Then he cast it aside. It clattered harshly against the courtyard's cobblestones, skidding a halt at the feet of its former master.

_**"Pick it up." **_he rumbled softly at her. _**"Arrancar."**_ Beckoning the espada forward he tooked a readied stance. Halibel did not waste the opportunity that had been presented to her. One moment her blade lay at her feet. The next, it snapped into her hand, a golden glow splaying against the edges of the hollowed portion of the blade. She pointed her blade forward at Ichigo, a wave of water like _reiatsu _appearing behind her as he stoically stood his ground.

"Attack, _Tiburón."_

The small tsunami crashed around her body, enveloping her inside of an opaque sphere of blue. Ichigo leapt back and onto one of the tiled rooftops that surrounded the small courtyard. His smile faltered a fraction as her spiritual power shot forth like a solid wall, and he readied himself for the attack.

Halibel broke out from the giant ball of water, her lithe body crashing outwards in a massive wave, her enormous sword aimed directly for Ichigo's gut. He was able to spin out of the way, but not without allowing his ribcage to remain wide open. Halibel's tanned leg swung out as she passed him, her armored shin planting itself into his side. With a grunt, the Shinigami flew backwards and into a nearby wall, his lungs struggling to take in air after the painful attack.

But he could already feel his body working alongside him. Though irritated by the massive attack, his ribs were already healing; twisting, popping, snapping as the fractures smoothed over one another and rejoined. In no time at all, he was standing as if nothing had ever happened. This perplexed Halibel. How was it that a shinigami, no a mere human, could stand so soon after taking the full brunt of her attack?

_'His reaitsu...its just like before. No, its even darker than before..._

Ichigo peeled back his mask and smiled with blood flecked lips.

**_"What, is that all you got?"_** He retorted snidely, his fingers whisking away the ivory white visage. _**"Espada-san?"**_

"Once more you've surprised me," Halibel retorted with subtle malice as she came forward. "I had not expected you to dodge my sword."

_**"Sorry to exceed your expectations,"**_ he said as he stepped back into a defensive posture. _**"But you'll need more than that to**_-**urgh!"**

The dull thud of sonido interrupted him, as did the ivory white spear protruding from his flesh. Ichigo blinked, the words left unsaid on his lips, unfinished. He blinked slowly, a series of slow, dulled blinks, with an infinite slowness. And still the blade drove through his flesh. The pain was excruciating. It was vile. And It was wonderful. Frenzied and maddened laughter rose from the back of his mind, and he knew at once that his other half was thoroughly enjoying his torment.

Kurosaki Ichigo was not.

Alarms vied with the sound of his own pounding pulse and explosions for dominance, creating a dissonant racket all around them.

_Enough._

Halibel's sword pierced the point of Ichigo's shoulder. Ichigo threw back his head and roared, the sound of agony modulating to a darkened glee. He reached up, up with the same arm that was wounded, and clamped his hand over Halibel's and the hilt of her sword. "To wound me," Ichigo said, "You must get close enough that I can wound you as well."

And he brought his blade over and down, severing Halibel's arm.

The howl that escaped Halibel was a lament for all that she had failed to do, and all that she now knew she would never do. Ichigo threw the arm away, the motion also dislodging the sword from his shoulder. He struck again, opening a rent in Halibel's other arm and again splitting the side of the doomed arrancar's mask. Halibel staggered. Ichigo swung from the side, the blow biting deep into Halibel's waist.

"It's over." He hissed, the words darkened; edged with malice, barely burbled beneath his mask. "Adios, Tres Espada."

Ichigo yanked Tensa Zangetsu free and Halibel Tia sank to her knees. She lifted her remaining arm to ward of the next blow, and Ichigo struck it off at the elbow. Armless, she fell to the streets, collapsing in a rapidly enlarging pool of her own blood. Ichigo loomed over her for a moment longer, his gaze already straying across the skies, seeking out his next victim_-her wounds weren't all that deep-_silhouetted against the sky.

Inadvertantly, it locked upon Barragan Luisenbarn.

_**"Next."**_ Ichigo hissed, his voice little more than a soft, deadly purr.

And he came forward, sword swinging.

**A/N: Am I the only one who thinks that this cannot possibly end well for Ichigo and Unohanna? Thus far, they seem to be terribly outnumbered, despite the fact that Yamamoto's flaming prison thingy is still working...for now.**


End file.
